


you could break my heart in two (but when it heals, it beats for you)

by LilyEllison



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 03, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyEllison/pseuds/LilyEllison
Summary: Karen gets sick and tries to resist letting Matt take care of her. Post-S3.





	you could break my heart in two (but when it heals, it beats for you)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write all the fic tropes lately, so here's a sickfic! I've also been Karedeviling out to Selena Gomez's Back to You, hence the (overly long) title. Thanks to [Quietshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietshade) for being my first reader!

Matt had been in the office for approximately 30 seconds when he stepped into Karen's doorway.

"You should go home," he said.

She'd been fighting it all morning, she had so many important cases, but she couldn't deny she felt like absolute crap. She had spent most of her brief time in the office so far just staring at her still-black computer screen. Matt could probably sense something off about her breathing or her heartbeat or...

He was reaching out his hand toward her head. "May I?"

She nodded. Then she caught herself and started to say yes. Then she caught herself again and stayed quiet. Matt's cool hand touched her forehead, her cheek, the back of her neck. She was so miserable and the contrast in their body temperatures felt so good that she had to hold back a sigh.

"Definitely over 100," he said.

"You can tell that? Really?"

He just shrugged. She groaned and put her head down on her arms, wishing she could just go to sleep on her desk.

"Foggy," Matt called.

She was dimly aware of Foggy entering her office. "Don't look at me," she mumbled into her arms.

"Karen's sick. I'm going to make sure she gets home OK. Can you handle the meeting with Patterson and his client?"

"I'd like to protest, since it's so amusing to watch your face when Patterson starts trying to bullshit you. But it does seem pretty dire for our patient here."

"Shut up, you," Karen whined, lifting her head to look at Foggy. The room tilted. She swallowed hard and waited for it to right itself. She sighed, looking back down at her hands. "I appreciate the offer, Matt, but I can get myself home. No need to disrupt your day."

"It's not a problem. I can—"

"No," she said, starting to get up. "Please, just..."

 _I don't want you around me when I'm like this_. Not because she was sick, though that was likely to be gross enough, but because she wanted so badly to be taken care of. Right now, she'd like nothing more than to rest against his shoulder in the backseat of a taxi, let him put his arms around her as he led her up the stairs to her apartment, let him tuck her away in the smooth sheets of her bed.

And none of that was OK. That felt way too close to girlfriend stuff, and she hadn't been Matt's girlfriend in a very long time. (Had she ever been Matt's girlfriend?)

Ugh. Her head throbbed. She risked a look at Matt's face. He was hurt. _Shit_.

She shoved her laptop into her bag. She'd worry about all this later, when her entire body felt less like an ache that had been set on fire.

"Text us after you've gotten some sleep," Foggy said. "We're going to be worried about you."

"OK, but I swear I'll be fine," she said, more to Matt than to Foggy. "Thanks for..."

And then she was concentrating as hard as she could to stay upright as she made her way down to the street.

***

Karen didn't remember getting hit by the flu this hard since she was a kid. There was a whole lot of ick factor and long stretches of sleep and a desperate need for restorative liquids of some sort but that would require actually calling or typing or...It was too much effort to even figure it out.

Her phone buzzed with increasingly concerned texts from Foggy that she was totally going to answer. In a minute. When she was feeling up to it.

Then there was knocking and someone calling her name. Foggy had her spare set of keys, but it wasn't Foggy who rushed in and then stopped, flustered, when she raised her head from the pillow.

"Hi, um, sorry. You didn't answer and I knew you were in here and I just got...worried."

Cane, check. Tie, check. Glasses, check. It was Matt standing at the foot of her bed. She should have known that from his voice but her brain was all funny. She laughed a little. She was totally grungy in her sweatpants and her mouth tasted of...she didn't want to think about it. She could only imagine how gross this all must be to someone with Matt's senses.

He left the room with her empty water bottle and came back with it filled. She accepted it gratefully.

“Should you go to the doctor?” he asked.

“Maybe. Even the thought of it is awful, though. I’m going to give it some more time.”

"I know you might not want me here," he said, and she wanted to cry because he was so right and so wrong at the same time. "But at least let me go out and get some things for you. There's good soup on the next block — I could smell it on the way over. And I can stop at the drugstore on the corner."

"OK," she said and she sniffled, holding back a cough. She was too tired to protest and even her urge to protest was muffled under the louder voice in her head that demanded better drugs and a little bit of sustenance. "Thank you."

She did her best to concentrate as he verified what she needed. Just before he left, she asked, "Matt, what time is it?"

"About noon," he said.

That couldn't be right. She had left the office a long time ago.

"On Friday," he said, seeming to sense her confusion.

Oh, god, she was really out of it if she'd forgotten what day it was. No wonder they were worried about her.

"Foggy would have come, but he's been in a deposition all day. So I was deputized. He told me to come in through the window if I had to."

She smiled a little at that. "It’s good of you to check on me," she said sincerely. “I’m glad you came. Really.” He dipped his head in acknowledgment and then left the apartment.

She stumbled into the shower as quickly as she could. It actually made her feel better, at least temporarily. With a last burst of energy, she changed the sheets as well. Mmm, clean sheets were better, too. She fell back on the bed and dozed, her wet hair dampening the pillowcase.

***

When Matt returned, she managed to eat a little of the soup.

She also remembered at least three absolutely vital calls that had to be made for the cases she had open, before leads went cold or offices closed or other very bad things happened.

She listened to the sound of Matt's voice in the other room as he made them, the sweet, familiar rise and fall of it.

He had gotten her some very nice medicine, and everything was starting to feel blurry and slow. She let it all fade except his voice, clinging to it for as long as she could before she slid into sleep.

***

When she woke up again, it was dark.

She was startled by a rustling outside her room, and she knew she should reach for her gun but she couldn't make her body move fast enough.

"Karen?"

Matt was walking into her room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He handed her more of the nice medicine, then held his hand to her forehead again. "How are you feeling?"

She was definitely hallucinating. Must be the fever. Matt couldn’t really still be here, adorably rumpled from sleep, his hair sticking up in different directions.

"I'm...cold," she said, her teeth suddenly chattering.

"I can find more blankets."

"No. Don't go," she said, seizing his hand with both of hers, still shivering. “Stay.”

And then he was lying down next to her, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair, holding her tight.

"I don't wanna get you sick," she mumbled half-heartedly, feeling the comfort she'd wanted for so long roll through her like a wave. She was almost warm again.

"Don't worry about it," he said, and she remembered that it was OK.

Hallucinations didn't get sick.

***

The sunlight was annoying, pricking at her face until she complied with its demands and surfaced back to consciousness.

There was an arm over her middle, and she was curled up around it, a warm weight pressed against her back. She bit her lip as it all came back to her and she held in the urge to cough. Hallucinations needed their rest, too, she thought with a smile.

Eventually she couldn’t help it, though, and she coughed quietly into the pillow.

Matt stirred. “Hey,” he said, sounding still half-asleep. “How are you?”

“Better. But a little embarrassed,” she admitted.

He stiffened, started to pull away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—"

“Matt, no.” She held his arm in place. “I asked you to stay. I’m just kind of a mess.”

“You’re not,” he said softly, his lips moving against her hair. “And even if you were, it wouldn't matter.”

And all the very good reasons she'd had for keeping her distance couldn't compare to the joy of some piece of her heart clicking back into place.

“I know it’s funny to say this to someone you're around every day, but...” She took a deep breath. “I’ve really missed you.”

“Karen”—his voice hitched—“I haven’t even let myself hope...”

Something was blooming around them, something soft and safe and right. “We should probably talk," she said, "but—"

“When you’re feeling better,” he finished, kissing her head. “Can I make you some tea?”

“Sounds nice,” she murmured. “Later.”

Right now, she wasn’t ready to let go.


End file.
